Ready to comply
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car. The words wrap around his mind, reshaping, rewriting, until he is ready to comply.
1. Longing

**A/N: Hey guys! So I decided a while ago that I wanted to explore Bucky's trigger words because there has to be a meaning behind them, right? So this fic is going to be a one-shot series with each chapter dedicated to a different word.**

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Longing

Bucky longed for a normal life. At least, in his more lucid moments, that is what he dreamt of.

At night he dreamed about what must have been his life before HYDRA. There were his younger siblings, and his mother with her tired, kind eyes. His friends in his squadron during the war and the echo of gunshots. And a skinny blonde kid named Steve. Always Steve.

He woke up grasping for these memories, longing to be back there where life was simpler. That is, until his training kicked back in and they faded into nothing.

Sometimes though, on missions, he would see something and feel a strange yearning. It was seemingly random, although Bucky suspected there was something behind it. The feeling was strongest when he was sent to Brooklyn. Everything there was so familiar, yet so strange too.

Bucky felt no remorse when he gazed upon the dying face of Howard Stark. His training had programmed him against all feeling towards his victims. Only... He was aware of some sort of longing deep in his stomach. He was within touching distance of the past he was sometimes so desperate to retrieve.

Though he doesn't know it, he always looked out for the one called Steve. He checked down alleyways in case the kid had gotten himself into another fight he couldn't finish. Often, Steve would be there, dripping blood, but never giving up.

Sometimes he still looks. For a fleeting moment, the Winter Soldier allows himself to be distracted. He doesn't know why, but he always looks, always hopes.

He never knows what he's looking for.

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 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed that, and thanks so much for reading. Please review if you want and I'll post again soon, I hope. Bye!**


	2. Rusted

**A/N: I want to thanks you all for the support I've received with this story! Particular thanks to Stephanie, DeRpYDoughnut and Princess Andromeda II for the wonderful reviews. I hope this one is just as good.**

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Rusted

It was a disease. A disease meant to grow and spread and rust away all that was James Buchanan Barnes. All that was Bucky.

Through the years of torture and manipulation HYDRA had put him through, this disease and grown stronger. It had thrived in Bucky's damaged brain. His mind had sharpened, yes, and his senses too, but everything else dulled and almost vanished under the thick coating of rust covering it.

It was the little things that went first. Like the sound of his sibling's laughter. Like the name of his first girlfriend. Like the fact that there were little flecks of green in the blue of Steve's eyes. Details were obscured first, then the bigger picture. Soon, he couldn't remember what his home had looked like, or why he cared so much for one skinny kid named Steve. One day he woke up not knowing his own name. That's how they knew he was ready.

The years had taken their toll. A coat - or straightjacket - of rust had formed over the life of Bucky Barnes, the soldier from Brooklyn. Anyone who tried to touch that part of his life came away with their fingers stained a brownish-red. Now he was simply the Winter Solider, the Asset without a home.

Still, every lock has a key, every speck of dirt can be cleaned. With time, the rust could be scraped away. You just have to use the right tools.

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 **A/N: I hope that was okay. I don't like it as much as the last chapter but I think it will suffice. Please leave a review and I'll hopefully update soon. Bye!**


	3. Seventeen

**A/N: So I'm a terrible person. This is even worse than last time. Well, thanks to Princess Andromeda II, Guest and MissScorp for the reviews. I can't promise anything for updates, because my mocks are coming up really soon so I won't have as much time for writing. I don't now, to be honest, but I realised this Friday was December 16th so that got me in the mood for this fic. I hope you enjoy!**

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Seventeen

Bucky was seventeen when he decided he wanted to join the Army. So was Steve.

War wasn't quite upon them yet, but it was coming. Everyone knew it, yet no one wanted to believe it. Which is why, whenever he announced his intentions to someone, they always laughed and shook their heads.

"Thankless job, son," they would say. "Go find yourself a girl and a nice safe house and a life."

"We're at peace," others assured him. "No need to join up."

On and on it went, driving Bucky insane. He wanted to do this; _needed_ it even. He was in a foul mood for days, snapping at Steve when the kid asked him what was wrong. He had fully expected Steve to tell him that it didn't matter, that there were plenty of better jobs out there for guys like him. Instead, the idiot had clapped his shoulder and smiled.

"Then I'm coming with you," he said, sincerity sparkling in those blue eyes of his. Bucky had spluttered excuses about how Steve wasn't well enough, but he hadn't listened. Bucky smiled ruefully; after all, was he any better?

11 years later, when he was dangling off the edge of a freight car, Bucky thought back to this moment and wondered how different this fight would have gone if only they had listened when they were seventeen.

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Please drop me a review if you have time, they feed my soul. Bye!**


	4. Daybreak

**A/N: To make up for not updating in forever, and the break I'm going to have to take, I'm giving you two, maybe three chapters today. Hope you enjoy!**

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Daybreak

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky loved the sunrise. He would sit on his knees in the window of his house whilst everyone else was still asleep and watch the sky burst into colour as the sun came up. Red, orange, yellow, he loved them all, and loved the way they painted the world in beautiful patterns.

He didn't sleep well the first few nights in Italy. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he was missing home, missing his mother and his siblings. Missing Steve. He was often awake in the early hours of the morning, watching the day break before his eyes. It was the only comfort he got in those first days because it was the only constant he had to hold onto. No matter how grey the days sometimes felt, he could always count on the sun to rise red.

Daybreak had always been Bucky's way of telling the time when the night stretched on for what felt like forever. When he was held captive by HYDRA, he didn't see the sun in days and quickly lost track of time's passing. Steve came for him, though, and the feeling on the sun on his face after too long in the dark comforted Bucky and reassured him that everything was going to be alright.

Everything seemed brighter after his fall. Bucky didn't know how long he had been lying there, but his arm was pumping blood into the snowy ground and he knew he must be dying. He almost smiled when he saw the sun breaking over the horizon, the red of it matching his blood. Darkness began to tug at the edges of his vision and he went gladly into it, the sight of what he knew to be his last daybreak calming him.

The Winter Soldier didn't care for sunrise. It was just a time of day, one that he didn't see much of anyway. His missions were performed under cover of night, his days spent training inside HYDRA's facilities, or in cryostasis. He had no need for shades of red and gold, not when his life was lived in darkness.

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 **A/N: I'm a lot happier with this one than the last. Please leave a review if you have a minute and I'll try and get another up today, but I can't promise anything on that front. Bye!**


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